A Different Kind of You
by LisaClemente
Summary: Harry needs to get away, and when he does, he meets Draco Malfoy ... who apparently died six years ago. HPDM Slash. Post-Hogwarts. Another Special Notice!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise.  
  
Author: Lisa Clemente LisaClementehotmail.com  
  
Rating: R (Well ... there will be bad words ... there will be sex ...)  
  
Chapter One – A Different Kind of You  
  
Harry shuffled into his hotel room – after struggling for ten minutes with the bloody key card – and closed the door behind him, taking in the interior. It wasn't bad, he thought. In fact, it was very nice. There was a Queen-sized bed covered in a deep red with numerous fluffy pillows. All the furniture was mahogany; a cabinet holding the entertainment system, a dressing table, a large wardrobe and two nightstands. Harry dropped his bags onto the floor and went to peek into the bathroom, finding it more than satisfactory, with white marble, a deep bath and a shower cubicle. Once back inside the room, he set about unpacking his clothes and putting them in the wardrobe. He'd be here for two weeks and he hated living out of bags.  
  
He hung up the last of his shirts, kicked off his shoes, and collapsed onto the bed. Yes, this was all right, he thought. Maybe it would do him some good after all. Two whole weeks of peace and quiet, of collecting his thoughts and deciding what to do with his life now that _it_ was over.  
  
He lay there for at least an hour, feeling relaxed for the first time in months, before his stomach made an announcement. Without sitting up, he reached over to the bedside cabinet and retrieved the room service menu, flicking on the lamp in order to see it. Once he had decided what he wanted to eat, he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, picked up the phone and ordered his food.  
  
Ten minutes later – good service! – there was a tap on the door and a male voice, vaguely familiar, said, 'Room service.'  
  
Harry stumbled off the bed and over to the door, flicking on the main light, and opening it. For a full five seconds, both men stared at each other, one holding a silver tray and wearing an apron. And then Harry found his voice.  
  
'You're supposed to be dead,' he said in amazement.  
  
Draco Malfoy's eyes narrowed. 'As far as you're concerned, I _am_ dead.'  
  
'Considering you're standing in front of me, talking, breathing, and carrying my food, I'd have to say that you're very much alive,' said Harry.  
  
'Your food, sir,' said Malfoy sarcastically, sweeping past Harry into the room and laying the tray onto the table. 'I hope you enjoy it.' Harry stared at him. 'What, no tip?'  
  
'Malfoy, why are you here?' said Harry.  
  
Malfoy surveyed him with a closed expression. 'I work here,' he said abruptly. 'But you're going to forget that you ever saw me, understand?'  
  
'You had a funeral,' said Harry, unable to get his mind around this. 'There's a coffin.'  
  
Malfoy sighed slightly. 'It's empty.'  
  
Harry felt a slight shiver, for someone who had murdered, seen murder and had almost been murdered himself, for some reason finding the thought of an empty coffin was more disturbing.  
  
'Enjoy your meal,' said Malfoy, and then he swept back out the room, leaving a confused silence in his wake.  
  
Dazedly, Harry sat at the table and began eating mechanically. Malfoy was alive. Huh. Now _that_ was something to write home about. Not that he would. Not yet, at least. He had to find out more, see what Malfoy's game was, why he was working in a hotel in the muggle world and why he had apparently faked his own death. Knowing Harry's luck, though, Malfoy had probably resigned from his job the moment he left Harry's room, and was already making his way across the country to hide himself again. Or across the world.  
  
Well, thought Harry, this certainly wasn't what I was expecting when I set off on my quiet retreat ... Interesting though.  
  
Disappointingly, it was a different member of staff who came to collect Harry's dishes later that evening, and after a shower, Harry slipped into his pyjama's and got into bed, feeling exhausted even though all he'd done that day was apparate a couple of times, take a bus, unpack some clothes and bump into Malfoy. All in all, Harry thought, it had been a very full day. And despite it only being ten o'clock, Harry's eyes shut immediately.  
  
Harry was just drifting off to sleep when he heard the clicks of his door opening, closing again, and the main light switching on. Harry sat up straight, tense, all those years in the war giving him honed instincts. But it was only Malfoy, without the apron this time. He looked at Harry for a minute, before crossing the room and settling down on the edge of the bed. Harry stared at him.  
  
'I just finished,' he said. 'Came to make sure you won't reveal my secret to anybody ... back there.'  
  
'Gonna attempt a memory charm?' Harry asked.  
  
Malfoy sighed irritably. 'Potter, do I look like a man carrying a wand?'  
  
'Don't ask stupid questions, Malfoy.'  
  
Malfoy glared at him for a moment, before sighing, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. He looked back up at Harry.  
  
'How long are you here for?' he asked.  
  
'Two weeks.'  
  
Malfoy nodded, more to himself than to Harry. _'Why_ are you here?'  
  
'Holiday,' said Harry guardedly.  
  
'Alone?'  
  
'Obviously.' There was a pause, and then Harry said, 'What are _you_ doing here?'  
  
'Talking to you,' said Malfoy.  
  
'That's not what I –'  
  
'I know what you meant,' interrupted Malfoy. 'Wanna do breakfast tomorrow?'  
  
This swift change of subject caught Harry off guard. 'What?'  
  
'Breakfast. Tomorrow. I don't work in the mornings,' said Malfoy. 'Considering you're on your own, I thought you might want some company.'  
  
'How very generous of you,' said Harry dryly. Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 'All right. Where?'  
  
'Here's fine,' said Malfoy. 'In the dining room downstairs. About nine?'  
  
'Fine,' said Harry.  
  
Malfoy nodded at him and stood. 'Sweet dreams,' he said, before leaving, switching the light off as he went.  
  
Harry collapsed back onto his pillows, feeling like that conversation didn't go at all like he wanted it to.

* * *

Harry arrived downstairs at ten to nine, finding Malfoy already there, sitting at a table in the smoking section, reading a newspaper and sipping a coffee. Harry went over to him and sat down.  
  
'Morning,' he said vaguely.  
  
Malfoy looked at him, folded his newspaper, and poured Harry a coffee out of the pot. 'You look like hell.'  
  
Harry glared at him. 'I'm not a morning person.'  
  
Malfoy smirked and opened his mouth to reply, but was stopped by the waiter who bustled over.  
  
'A bit early for you, isn't it?' the waiter said to Malfoy. 'Normally it's gone noon before you stumble out of bed.'  
  
It was Harry's turn to smirk.  
  
'Fuck off, Rich,' Malfoy said mildly, 'and do your job.'  
  
The waiter gave him an ironic bow and raised his pen to his pad. 'What can I get you, Master?'  
  
'What do you want?' Malfoy asked Harry, who hadn't even looked at the menu yet.  
  
'Er ...'  
  
'We'll both have a full English,' Malfoy interrupted.  
  
'Anything else?' asked the waiter, while scribbling on his pad.  
  
'Want some orange juice?' Malfoy asked.  
  
Harry shrugged. 'Sure.'  
  
'Make that two,' Malfoy told the waiter.  
  
'Right,' said the waiter, slipping his pad into his apron pocket. 'Nice of you to introduce us, by the way.'  
  
'You don't make introductions to the serving staff,' said Malfoy.  
  
The waiter rolled his eyes and offered his hand to Harry. 'I'm Richard, one of Steve's long-suffering friends.'  
  
'Steve?' said Harry blankly. Malfoy glared at him and Harry cottoned on. 'Oh, right. Yes. A friend of Steve's. I'm Harry and I'm ... er ... an old school friend.'  
  
If Richard noticed anything strange about Harry's reply, he didn't show it. 'On holiday?' he asked, grinning at him.  
  
'Yeah, for a fortnight,' said Harry.  
  
'Ooh, we'll have to give you a tour. Check out the nightlife, you know?'  
  
'Stop flirting, Rich,' said Malfoy.  
  
'Don't introduce me to your adorable looking friends then,' said Richard. Harry gaped.  
  
'I didn't,' said Malfoy, smirking at Harry's discomfort. 'Now bring us our breakfast.'  
  
Richard winked at Harry, clapped Malfoy on the shoulder, and left. Harry had a few questions.  
  
'Steve?'  
  
Malfoy smiled. 'Steven Chambers at your service,' he said. 'If you're in hiding, it's not really smart to use your real name, is it?'  
  
'So you _are_ hiding?' said Harry.  
  
Malfoy looked at Harry as if he was an idiot. 'Now who's asking stupid questions?'  
  
Harry ignored him, and moved on. 'Your friend, Richard, is he ...?'  
  
'Gay?' asked Malfoy, his eyes glittering. 'Yes. He seemed _very_ interested in you.'  
  
Harry coughed. 'Yes. Well.'  
  
Malfoy laughed. 'Potter, relax. You're not going to be assaulted by him.'  
  
'Right,' said Harry, changing the subject. 'So how long have you been here, then? Richard seems to know you fairly well.'  
  
'I moved here about a week after I died,' said Malfoy. Now there was a sentence Harry never expected to hear. 'So, I suppose it's been, what, six years,' he continued.  
  
'Has it really been that long?' Harry mused out loud. Malfoy had _supposedly_ died during the final battle. Six years since the war had ended.  
  
'So, what does the Great Harry Potter do for a living?' asked Malfoy. 'International Quidditch player? Number one Auror? Senior Unspeakable? Or maybe something _predictable_ like Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.'  
  
'Are you really that out of touch? If I were an International Quidditch star, you'd know about it,' said Harry.  
  
'Actually I wouldn't. I haven't got a clue what goes on in your world these days.'  
  
'Don't you mean _our_ world?' asked Harry.  
  
Malfoy was saved from answering by the arrival of breakfast. Richard spent a few moments leering at Harry, making him feel very uncomfortable, before Malfoy sent him away. They tucked into their meal while Harry told Malfoy that he was, indeed, an Auror. Malfoy seemed politely interested, and he questioned Harry on the different aspects of his work and whether he enjoyed it.  
  
While they chatted, Harry found himself wondering how Malfoy managed to eat the huge mounds of food piled on his plate. He was thinner than Harry remembered, even if he was older. His hair was still that unnatural blonde colour; it fell in to his eyes with an elegant grace, and several times he flicked his head to get it out of the way. Harry was vaguely surprised about Malfoy's choice of attire. Harry remembered all too well his love for the finest clothes and robes, and how he turned his nose down at anyone wearing something he considered below his standard. But today he was wearing a light blue, long sleeved t-shirt and black trousers. Around his neck was a silver chain with a matching bracelet around his wrist. Harry had always found the sight of silver jewelry on women sexy, and he noted that it had the same sort of effect on men, particularly against that pale skin.  
  
Malfoy pushed his empty plate away from him and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, offering one to Harry, who refused. He lit up and inhaled, leaning back in his chair looking utterly relaxed.  
  
'So,' he said, 'why are you really here?'  
  
'I told you,' said Harry, 'I'm on holiday.'  
  
Malfoy looked at him for a moment, and then snorted. 'Fine. Keep your secrets.'  
  
'I think you have enough secrets for both of us.' He sighed, and said, 'It's stupid, really. I can't even be bothered to talk about it.'  
  
Malfoy still looked curious, but he let it go. 'Where are your glasses?' he asked instead.  
  
'Oh. Contacts. I've been wearing them for about three years.'  
  
'Ever thought of using a vision correction charm?'  
  
'Yes. But something about mixing magic with my eyes ...'  
  
'Well, you look better like that. Those glasses were fucking horrible,' said Malfoy and Harry didn't know whether to take offence at the insult, or be flattered with the compliment.  
  
Malfoy put out his cigarette and stood. 'You done?'  
  
'Yes. The bill –'  
  
'Don't worry. You're here on my invitation, after all,' he said.  
  
'I would have eaten here anyway,' said Harry, but Malfoy ignored him.  
  
'I'll pay it later,' he said. 'When I start work.'  
  
'You work every day?' asked Harry.  
  
'I get one day off a week, but yeah. Three till ten.' They wandered out of the dining room into the foyer. 'What are you going to do today?'  
  
Harry shrugged. 'Look around, I suppose. Haven't really thought about it.'  
  
'Well, I've still got a few hours. You wanna go do something?'  
  
'Like what?' asked Harry.  
  
'Whatever you like. I could take you into the town. Show you around the shops. That sort of thing,' said Malfoy.  
  
They went outside and Malfoy hailed a taxi to take them into town. Harry didn't actually buy anything, but they had a good time wandering around the shops, chatting about inconsequential things. They had lunch in a pub where they reminisced about their old school rivalry and got into a debate about Quidditch. They avoided all topics that involved the war, Malfoy's family and his staged death, but Harry was determined to get some answers out of him before he went home.  
  
They spent another hour window shopping and then it was two-thirty and Draco said he needed to get to work. They took a cab back to the hotel and entered the foyer.  
  
'Do you live here as well?' asked Harry.  
  
'No,' said Malfoy. 'I could if I wanted to, but I rent my own flat down town.'  
  
Harry was slightly disappointed at finding out he had apparently been close to Malfoy's home all day, and hadn't been invited round.  
  
'Right, well, I'll see you then,' said Harry.  
  
'Wait,' said Malfoy. 'I'm going out with some friends tonight. You wanna come?'  
  
'Erm ...' said Harry.  
  
'It's only to a bar,' said Malfoy smiling. 'We only go clubbing at the weekends. You won't have to show yourself up on any dance floor.'  
  
Harry returned the smile. 'Okay.'  
  
'Great,' said Malfoy. 'I'll pick you up when I finish. Just after ten.'  
  
'Okay,' Harry repeated.  
  
'Oh, and Potter,' said Malfoy, looking him up and down. 'Wear something ... nice.'  
  
Harry looked down at his jeans and shirt. 'What's wrong with this?'  
  
Malfoy snorted and turned away. 'See you later.'  
  
At a quarter to ten that evening, Harry sat on the edge of his bed watching the telly and waiting for Malfoy. He had ordered a sandwich for dinner, having already eaten two large meals that day, but it hadn't been Malfoy who delivered it.  
  
Harry was feeling a little nervous. He was going out with Malfoy and his friends and Harry had never been good with new people. All of Malfoy's friends in school had been Slytherins, which meant they had been generally bad-natured and intimidating. He hoped that the friends he would be meeting tonight were all like Richard – friendly and cheerful. Although Harry could do without the flirting.  
  
At three minutes past ten, the door opened and Malfoy entered.  
  
'Ready?' he asked.  
  
'Aren't you supposed to knock?' Harry asked.  
  
Malfoy waved the little card in his hand. 'If you work here you get a magic- key. What's the point in not using it?'  
  
'Magic-key?'  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Not that type of magic, Potter. Magic as in it opens every door in the hotel.'  
  
'Handy,' said Harry.  
  
'Indeed,' said Malfoy. 'Now stand up. Let me take a look at you.'  
  
When Harry looked reluctant Malfoy tugged on his arm. 'Come on. I haven't got all night, you know. I still have to make myself beautiful.'  
  
Harry sighed and stood, spreading his arms, showing Malfoy the trousers and shirt he was wearing. Malfoy surveyed him.  
  
'Hmm,' he said. 'We're really going to have to go clothes shopping sometime. But I suppose you'll do.'  
  
'Thanks,' said Harry dryly. He picked up the remote and switched off the telly, before crossing over to his nightstand to collect his wallet.  
  
'Hurry _up_,' said Malfoy impatiently, grabbing Harry's forearm and feeling the lump beneath the material. 'Potter, you are _not_ taking your wand with you.'  
  
'Oh, yes, I am,' said Harry firmly. 'It goes everywhere with me. There are still people out there who want me dead, you know.'  
  
Malfoy flinched as if Harry had said the word 'Voldemort'.  
  
'Fine,' he said. 'Get a move on then.'  
  
He grabbed Harry's hand instead of his arm and began dragging him out of the room.  
  
'Malfoy, I'm not a child you know,' Harry grumbled, but allowed himself to be pulled along.  
  
Malfoy's flat turned out to be a loft apartment. The inside was open plan, with a breakfast bar separating the kitchen, wooden floors throughout, large floor to ceiling windows, and black, leather sofas.  
  
'You like?' asked Malfoy, closing the door behind Harry and dropping his keys onto a little table.  
  
'I do,' said Harry. Malfoy smiled widely.  
  
He led Harry into the kitchen area. 'You want something to drink? I'm gonna be about half an hour.'  
  
'Half an hour? Malfoy, it's ten thirty already.'  
  
'Yeah,' said Malfoy unconcernedly, rummaging around in the fridge. 'The place we're going doesn't close until three. We're meeting my friends around eleven sometime.'  
  
He pulled out a beer and handed it to Harry. 'Go and sit down. Put the telly or the stereo on, or whatever.'  
  
He opened a door and entered. Harry caught a glimpse of the bathroom before the door was closed. There was another door, which Harry supposed was the bedroom.  
  
Harry wandered over to Malfoy's entertainment unit, sipping on his beer as he went. He decided on music rather than TV, and began sifting through Malfoy's CD collection, finding one that he liked, and putting it on.  
  
Malfoy really was living like a muggle, thought Harry, as he looked around. There was absolutely nothing in this flat that suggested magic. On the shelf above the telly were some framed pictures, and Harry looked at them, half expecting to see Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy glaring back at him, or maybe some of Malfoy himself, looking bored and haughty like he always did in school. As it turned out, most of them were of Malfoy, but he was never alone. The pictures were muggle and seemed to be taken in various bars and clubs. In most of them, he was surrounded by people, all of them, including Malfoy, grinning and laughing and looking very drunk.  
  
Everything about Malfoy was so different. It really was as if he had died, and had been reborn into this new life, where he was happy and carefree and having fun. Just then, the bathroom door opened and Malfoy came out wearing a towel around his waist.  
  
'Turn it up,' he said to Harry and then went into his bedroom, leaving the door open, the better to hear the music.  
  
Harry obeyed, twiddling the volume button until the music boomed out of the speakers. Harry wondered if the neighbours would complain, but Malfoy didn't come out to say it was too loud, so Harry left it as it was.  
  
Harry passed the time waiting for Malfoy by looking through Malfoy's DVD collection, and then the small selection of books and, lastly, a glass cabinet that held a great variety of alcohol.  
  
Malfoy finally came out, looking very nice in all black. It contrasted stunningly with his pale skin, and after a moment, he realised he was staring at Malfoy's smooth neck. He jolted and looked up to find Malfoy smirking at him. He switched off the stereo and looked back at Harry.  
  
'I'm going to take it that I look good,' he said slyly.  
  
'Erm – yeah – you look all right,' stuttered Harry.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'I look more than all right,' he said, taking Harry's beer out of his hand, taking a sip, and putting it down on the breakfast bar.  
  
Not everything has changed then, Harry thought. He's still incredibly vain.  
  
Malfoy picked up his keys and slipped them into his pocket, and then his wallet, which he put into his back pocket.  
  
'Remember,' he said, 'that I'm Steven. Or Steve.'  
  
'Right,' said Harry.  
  
Malfoy informed him that the bar was only around the corner, so they walked. It was a members only place, and Malfoy flashed a membership card and then signed Harry in as his guest.  
  
The place was full to the brim, and Harry immediately realised that he had been brought to a gay bar when he looked around at all the people. He glanced at Malfoy, but he was busy staring around, trying to find his friends. He appeared to have spotted them because his face split into a grin and he grabbed Harry's hand.  
  
'Come on,' he said, leading them across the room to a table in the corner, where a group of people were seated. There were two men, and two women.  
  
'Hi,' said Malfoy, and made his way around the table, kissing everyone in a way that was completely unlike the Malfoy of old. 'Everyone, this is Harry, an old friend. He's on holiday here. Harry, this is everyone.'  
  
Harry didn't miss the fact that he was being addressed by his first name. They rolled their eyes at his poor introductory skills, and then smiled at Harry.  
  
Malfoy seated himself and then tugged on Harry's sleeve to get him to sit too, which he did, smiling nervously at everyone. They quickly made a better job than Malfoy, introducing themselves as Paul and Jason. The women, who Harry quickly noticed were a couple, were called Sharon and Louise. He wondered if the men were gay. And then he wondered if Malfoy was, too.  
  
'Where's Rich?' asked Malfoy, hailing a passing waiter.  
  
'He doesn't know if he's gonna make it,' said Paul.  
  
'Vodka good for you?' Malfoy asked Harry. Harry nodded. Malfoy turned to the waiter and ordered two vodka and cokes. 'Everyone else is good, right?' he added, peering around at all the glasses on the table to make sure they still contained liquid. When he was satisfied that they were all good, he said, 'Richard hasn't been out for ages.'  
  
'A week is not ages, Steve,' said Jason.  
  
'It is when you're this young,' pouted Malfoy.  
  
'Speak for yourself,' said Paul. He looked to be around thirty, and probably the oldest of the group.  
  
Harry was relieved to find that Malfoy's friends were very nice. They didn't focus all their attention on him, which he was very glad about. He hated being in the spotlight. A few minutes later, Sharon and Louise spotted some female friends, and they left to join them for a while, leaving Paul, Jason, Malfoy and Harry at the table.  
  
'So, Harry,' said Paul, 'this is the first time Steven's ever brought someone new along. How long have you known each other?'  
  
'Since school,' said Harry.  
  
'Was Steve in prison?' asked Jason bluntly. Malfoy glared at him.  
  
'What?' said Harry, startled by the odd question.  
  
'Mental institution?' Jason pressed.  
  
'Er ...'  
  
'Or was he on the game?' said Jason. 'I could imagine him as a rent boy.'  
  
'Shut up, Jay,' said Malfoy. Paul and Jason laughed.  
  
'Sorry,' Jason said to Harry. 'It's just we know _nothing_ about what Steven did before he moved here. He won't tell us anything. Just keeps saying it's boring and there's nothing to tell.'  
  
'Which is true,' said Malfoy.  
  
'Come on, Harry,' said Jason. 'Spill the beans. If you went to school together, you must have some stories.'  
  
'He doesn't,' said Malfoy. 'Now shut the fuck up, Jason.'  
  
Jason grinned at him. 'All right, fine, keep your secrets.' He turned back to Harry. 'So, what type of school was it?'  
  
'What the fuck did I just say?' said Malfoy.  
  
'Keep your knickers on, Steve,' said Paul, who seemed tremendously amused.  
  
Harry didn't see anything wrong with answering that question though. 'It was a boarding school.'  
  
'Ooh,' said Jason, while Malfoy sighed and nudged his knee against Harry's. 'Interesting. Now, tell me, Harry, did he come from a rich family?'  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. Harry glanced at him and then said, 'Why do you ask?'  
  
'Because he's such a fucking snob!' said Jason, while Paul laughed.  
  
'Stop talking about me as if I'm not –' Malfoy began, but a man suddenly appeared behind him, and he lowered his head next to Malfoy's, making him jump. He whispered in Malfoy's ear for a moment, and then straightened up, crossed his arms, and waited. Malfoy was scowling. He caught Harry's eye and pasted a fake smile onto his face. 'I'll be back in a minute,' he said, before following the man out of sight.  
  
Harry turned to Jason and Paul, who were frowning in the direction Malfoy just left. 'Who was that man?' he asked.  
  
'That was Chris,' said Jason. 'He's –'  
  
'He's a friend of Steven's,' interrupted Paul. Jason snorted his disagreement at this. Paul seemed to think it was better to change the subject, because he smiled at Harry, and said, 'So. What do you do for a living?'  
  
'I – er ... I work for the government,' said Harry. This wasn't strictly a lie. He did work in the ministry of magic after all.  
  
'Really?' said Paul, sounding impressed. 'Doing what?'  
  
'Oh – er – it's boring really,' floundered Harry. 'It's all to do with law enforcement and stuff. It's not very interesting.'  
  
'I bet it pays well, though,' said Jason. Paul gave him a look telling him just how rude he thought he was being.  
  
'I do all right,' said Harry.  
  
'So, before we were interrupted by that bastard,' said Jason, nodding his head in the general direction of where the man had arrived to speak to Malfoy. 'You were telling us about Steven.'  
  
'I don't really think it's my place to tell you anything,' said Harry, feeling awkward. 'Especially as he hasn't told you anything himself.'  
  
'Oh, come on,' said Jason impatiently. 'It's driving me nuts. Obviously there's _something_ to tell, or there wouldn't be all this secrecy.'  
  
'Leave it alone, Jay,' said Paul mildly. 'You're putting poor Harry on the spot.'  
  
'We all have our skeletons,' said Harry, 'and I'm not revealing Steven's. But,' he continued, 'he wasn't in prison, a mental institution _or_ on the game.'  
  
'But was he rich?' pushed Jason.  
  
If Harry answered that, no doubt it would lead to questions about Malfoy's family, which Jason probably found a fascinating mystery. Thankfully, he was saved from answering by the return of Malfoy, Chris is tow. Malfoy looked slightly harassed, but he smiled at Harry.  
  
'Budge up,' he said. Harry shuffled along, and Malfoy sat next to him, Chris squeezing in on the other side of Malfoy. 'Harry this is Chris. Chris, Harry.'  
  
Harry smiled at Chris, who only nodded back.  
  
'Hello Chris,' said Jason coolly, 'I didn't know you were joining us.'  
  
'Well now you do,' said Chris. He was quite good looking, Harry thought, with his dark hair and eyes. He was slender but looked to hold some muscle; he was about the same height as Malfoy, and was currently in a glaring competition with Jason.  
  
'Having fun?' Malfoy asked Harry, pressing his leg against his.  
  
Harry smiled at him, choosing to ask about Chris later. 'Yeah.'  
  
'What the fuck is he doing here?' said a sudden voice. It was Sharon. She and Louise had returned and she was glaring at Chris.  
  
'Nice to see you, too, Shaz,' said Chris.  
  
'Don't call me that,' she snapped at him. 'Steven, have you gone fucking mad? What's he doing here?'  
  
'Leave it, Shaz,' said Malfoy, looking uncomfortable.  
  
Sharon stared at him. 'I don't fucking understand you sometimes,' she said.  
  
'Sit down, Sharon,' said Louise quietly, nudging her into an empty seat. 'I'll get the next round. Who's gonna help me?'  
  
'I will,' said Harry hurriedly. She smiled at him and he followed her to the bar. She ordered everyone's drinks, the fact that she knew exactly what they all drank showing how long they had all been friends.  
  
While they waited, Harry decided to try and get some answers. 'What was going on back there? With Chris?'  
  
Louise sighed. 'He's Steven's boyfriend.'  
  
'Boyfriend?' asked Harry, his earlier suspicion confirmed.  
  
'Well, ex-boyfriend actually. But he just won't get the message,' said Louise.  
  
'But why are Jason and Sharon so angry at him?' said Harry.  
  
'Because he wasn't faithful. Kept fucking Steve about. Hurting him, you know? Steve was really into him, so he kept taking him back. But the last time, he did it in Steven's bed while he was at work, but he came home and caught them. He got rid of him again, and he says it's for good, but Chris just won't leave him alone. Beats me why he would even cheat in the first place. I mean, look at Steven, he's fucking gorgeous. Almost enough to convert me.'  
  
'So, Steve says it's definitely over this time?' asked Harry.  
  
'Yes. And I think he's starting to get over Chris. If only Chris would leave him the fuck alone ...' the bar tender handed over the drinks on a tray, and Harry paid for it. 'Anyway,' said Louise, finishing her little story before they returned to the table. 'That's why Sharon's angry. She's really close to Steven and cares about him too much. Jay, too.'  
  
Harry carried the tray over to the table, thinking - for the tenth time that day - that Malfoy was so different to how he was. He never would have stood for that sort of crap before. How was it possible for someone to change so much? Harry preferred this version, apart from letting himself be walked all over by that Chris bloke.  
  
They reached the table to find a tense silence. Sharon was glaring daggers at Chris, and throwing disgusted glances at Malfoy. Harry was put out to see that Chris had his arm over the back of Malfoy's chair.  
  
Harry placed the tray on the table, and sat down. Malfoy gave him a tight smile. Louise handed out the drinks, and said in a fake apologetic tone, 'Oh dear, I guess I forgot to get you one, Chris.'  
  
Chris raised his half-full beer and said, 'Don't worry, babe, I'm good.' Sharon opened her mouth to say something, probably about the 'babe' comment, but Louise nudged her and gave her a warning look.  
  
Harry felt a bit uncomfortable about the situation. He caught Paul's eye, who winked. Harry couldn't help but smile in return.  
  
Luckily, Louise started up a conversation, talking about her job in a salon, and how much she hated her female boss, who was slightly homophobic. After that, they discussed a holiday they were planning to take next summer and how absolutely everybody _must_ come. Harry presumed she excluded Chris in that statement.  
  
Although Harry was involved in the conversation, his attention was never far from Malfoy and Chris. For the most part, Malfoy chatted away with the others, leaning forward in his chair with his forearms resting on the table and flashing the occasional smile in Harry's direction. But Chris made sure that Malfoy didn't forget he was there, making comments and leaning against him slightly.  
  
Jason, in his usual blunt way, turned to Harry and said, 'So Harry, which way do you swing?' Harry saw both Malfoy and Paul look at him intently, awaiting his answer.  
  
'I'm straight,' he said. But then he remembered how he found the silver jewelry attractive on Malfoy, and how he had stared at Malfoy's neck before they left his flat. And then he recalled when Paul winked at him in that cute way, and how it made Harry smile. 'I think ...' he added uncertainly.  
  
Everyone laughed and Malfoy nudged him with his knee.  
  
'Don't worry,' said Louise, 'two weeks in Steven's company, with him looking like that ... if you don't end up in his bed, you're straight.'  
  
Paul's smile slipped a little, and Malfoy winked at Harry. Chris scowled at Louise, who responded with a sarcastic smile.  
  
Malfoy looked sideways at him, smirked, and said, 'Well, if you _are_ gay, at least you'll have a decent first shag.'  
  
Harry choked on his drink, while everybody roared with laughter, including Malfoy, who thumped him on the back to get him breathing again. Chris wrapped his arm possessively around Malfoy's shoulders, and the laughter died from Malfoy's face. Harry scowled.  
  
Half an hour later, they started talking about going home.  
  
'I'll give you a lift back,' Paul said to Malfoy.  
  
'Yeah, thanks,' said Malfoy. Harry wondered if it was safe for any of them to drive, and then he realised that Paul had been drinking coke all night.  
  
'Girls?' Paul said to Sharon and Louise.  
  
'We'll get a taxi later,' Sharon said.  
  
'It was nice meeting you all,' Harry said, and Sharon and Louise gave him a kiss, promising to see him soon.  
  
'Come on then,' Paul said, standing up and fishing his car keys out of his pocket. 'Coming, Jay?'  
  
'No, I'm sticking with the girls,' Jason said with a grin, and Sharon ruffled his hair.  
  
'Right, see you later.'  
  
'You and me are gonna have a chat soon,' Jason said to Harry. 'About the Steven _you_ know.'  
  
'Are you ever going to let it drop?' Malfoy asked.  
  
'Nope,' said Jason, blowing him a kiss.  
  
Malfoy winked at him, and then got up, followed by Chris. Paul stared at him. 'Where are you going?'  
  
'Back to Steve's,' said Chris, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
Malfoy looked awkward, and said, 'Oh, Chris, not tonight. I'm tired.'  
  
Chris glared at him, and Malfoy adopted an apologetic look on his face. 'Fine,' Chris huffed. 'Later.' He stormed away like a black cloud.  
  
Malfoy visibly relaxed, and he grinned at Harry, who smiled back. Once Malfoy and Paul said their goodbyes they went to the bar so Malfoy could pay his tab. Everybody who was behind the bar seemed to know him, including some of the customers leaning against it, and it took another ten minutes to get away. Eventually, they were in Paul's car, heading for the hotel. Apparently, Paul lived close to Malfoy, so it made sense to take Harry home first.  
  
The moment they were out of the car park and on the main road, Paul started berating Malfoy, who was sitting in the passenger seat, and was carefully keeping his tone calm and non-accusatory.  
  
'What did Chris have to say?' he asked Malfoy.  
  
'Wanted to know why I haven't called him,' Malfoy said vaguely, fiddling with the radio until he found a station he liked.  
  
'I would have thought that was fairly obvious,' Paul said.  
  
Malfoy sat back with a sigh. 'Just leave it.'  
  
Paul glanced sideways at Malfoy, and said, 'Just be careful. It's all we ask.'  
  
Malfoy turned his head to face Paul, and Harry saw him smile. A few seconds later, Malfoy swiveled in his seat, with his arms wrapped around the headrest, grinning at Harry.  
  
'Did you have fun?' he asked.  
  
'Steven, will you sit properly, please? Put your bloody seatbelt on,' Paul said.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes at him. 'Well?' he said to Harry.  
  
'Yeah,' said Harry. 'You've got some good friends.'  
  
Malfoy winked at him, and then sat back down in his seat. Harry liked it when Malfoy winked.  
  
Paul pulled up in front of the hotel and turned his head to see Harry. 'You'll be coming out with us again, won't you?'  
  
'Of course he will,' Malfoy said. 'He's on his own here.'  
  
'Good,' said Paul, smiling at him. 'It was a pleasure to meet you.'  
  
'You too,' said Harry. 'Thanks for the lift.'  
  
'No problem.'  
  
'I'll probably see you tomorrow some time,' Malfoy said to him.  
  
''kay,' said Harry, stifling a yawn. 'Night.'  
  
'Night,' they replied.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Harry was lying in bed, feeling sleep washing over him. He rolled over on to his side, and realised that he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this peaceful. 


	2. Bump and Grind

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Thank you to everyone who reviewed! They keep me motivated :-)

Chapter Two – Bump and Grind  
  
Harry didn't drag himself out of bed until eleven the next morning. It had been a while since he had drunk vodka, and it seemed to have affected him a little. He stumbled into the shower and stood there, unmoving, for a full half an hour before rousing himself enough to actually wash. By twelve o'clock, he was just about ready to face the world, and he went down to the dining room for lunch.  
  
He sat at the same table he and Malfoy had used the day before, and studied his menu. A minute later, Richard came over.  
  
'Hello again,' he said brightly.  
  
'Hello,' said Harry cautiously.  
  
'Hung over?' Richard smirked.  
  
'Not really, just ... off.'  
  
'You look worse than Steven did, but he's used to the morning after nightmare,' said Richard.  
  
'He was here?'  
  
'Yeah,' said Richard. 'Came in for breakfast, which was strange, because he doesn't usually surface until gone lunchtime. Anyway, what can I get you?'  
  
'Oh. Er ...' Harry glanced back at his menu. 'I'll have a jacket potato with cheese. Lots and lots of butter, please.'  
  
Richard made an 'ack' sound at the thought of so much butter, and scribbled the order down.  
  
'Won't be long,' he said cheerily, and bustled away.  
  
Harry mentally kicked himself about not being up in time for breakfast, and thus, missing Malfoy. Harry wondered why he had come. Maybe he actually wanted to eat with Harry. But then why didn't he just come upstairs and get him?  
  
Harry got up and picked a newspaper from the rack, returning to his table just as Richard arrived with his lunch.  
  
'Thanks,' he said.  
  
'You're welcome,' said Richard. 'Oh, hey, sorry I didn't make it last night.'  
  
Harry, who had no idea why Richard was apologising to _him_, smiled and said, 'Nevermind. Next time, eh?'  
  
'Yeah,' said Richard, smiling in a disturbing way, 'definitely.'  
  
Harry returned the smile, if a bit nervously, and turned his attention to his food and newspaper. Much to Harry's relief, Richard left him alone after that.  
  
At half-past two that afternoon Harry was lying on his bed watching a dreadfully boring documentary about sea lions on BBC2. The hotel was good, but they only had the standard five channels on the telly, and no Sky.  
  
The door opened and Malfoy wandered in. 'Hi,' he said. Harry sat up and put the TV on to mute.  
  
'Hello,' he replied, smiling.  
  
'Just thought I'd call in before my shift started,' said Malfoy, sitting on the edge of the bed. 'What're you doing today?'  
  
'Nothing,' said Harry. 'There isn't really that much to do during the day, except shop or watch chat shows.'  
  
'You can go over to my place if you like,' said Malfoy. 'Watch a DVD and listen to music or something. It's gotta be better than sitting in here all day.'  
  
'Yeah, all right then. If you're sure,' said Harry.  
  
'Here,' said Malfoy, pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them over. 'If you come back before I finish, you'll have to ask for me because I need them. I haven't got a spare set on me.'  
  
'Thanks,' said Harry. 'I'll probably wait though.'  
  
Malfoy grinned. 'Tell you what: I'll skip my break and you can have dinner ready for when I get home.'  
  
He made the notion of slaving away over a cooker for him sound like such a treat, that Harry started to laugh.  
  
'What's funny?' Malfoy asked.  
  
'Nothing,' said Harry, controlling himself. 'Anything in particular you'd like?'  
  
'Surprise me,' said Malfoy. 'Although you might have to go to the shop. I don't think I've got much in.'  
  
'Okay,' said Harry.  
  
'Great. I'll see you later then,' said Malfoy, giving Harry's hand a squeeze. He stood up and said, 'I'm glad you enjoyed yourself last night. Everyone seemed to like you.'  
  
'Chris didn't seem too happy,' said Harry.  
  
Malfoy's expression closed. 'Yeah. Well. Don't worry about him. I'll see you tonight.'  
  
When Harry arrived at Malfoy's, the first thing he did was search the fridge and cupboards to see what Malfoy had in. He found enough to throw together a half-decent spaghetti bolognaise, which would have to do, because he couldn't be bothered to go to the shop.  
  
After that, he went through the DVD's and chose Pearl Harbor, which was nice and long and would kill some time. He collected himself a can of coke and a packet of crisps, and sprawled himself out on the sofa.  
  
Just when he was getting to the action part of the film where the Japanese attacked, the phone rang. Harry hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not he should answer. After the sixth ring, he picked up.  
  
'Hello?' he said.  
  
'Harry? It's Jason,' came the reply.  
  
'Oh, hi.'  
  
'Me and Shaz have just been over to see Steven about going out tonight and he said you were on your own at his place. We're the only one's not at work and we're _bored_. Can we come over?'  
  
'Erm ... well, it's Steve's place –' Harry began awkwardly.  
  
'Oh, don't worry about that. He's the one who told us to invite ourselves over. Said you could do with the company,' Jason assured him.  
  
'Yeah, sure, all right then,' said Harry.  
  
'Great! See you in a bit,' said Jason, and then there was a click.  
  
Harry replaced the receiver feeling slightly nervous. These were Malfoy's friends, not his. He didn't know them very well at all. Not to mention the fact that Jason was incessantly curious about Malfoy's past, and Harry really didn't know what to tell him.  
  
Oh, well. It's not like he could have said no.  
  
Harry switched off the film and put the telly on to Channel 4, as it was the only channel that wasn't showing the afternoon cartoons.  
  
Jason had said that he had gone to see Malfoy about going out tonight. It was Friday and Malfoy had mentioned that they usually go clubbing on the weekends. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to be invited or not.  
  
Ten minutes later, just when Harry was starting to really get into the sitcom he had been half watching, Malfoy's entry phone buzzed.  
  
'Hello?'  
  
'It's Jay. Open up!'  
  
Harry pressed the button and there were the sounds of rampaging elephants as Jason and Sharon clambered up the stairs. Harry opened the door to greet them.  
  
'Hi,' they said, walking past Harry into the flat. He closed the door as they shucked off their jackets. Jason was carrying a plastic bag which he carried over to the breakfast bar and unloaded it.  
  
They had brought chocolate, popcorn, cream soda, lemonade and a DVD, which was Love Actually, and turned out to be Sharon's choice. Jason announced that they weren't watching it yet, so Sharon put on a CD and they settled onto the sofas.  
  
'So neither of you work, then?' said Harry.  
  
'Oh, yeah, we do,' said Sharon. 'But I don't work Fridays, Saturdays or Sundays, and Jay's got the day off.  
  
'What d'you do?'  
  
'I'm a Dental nurse and he works at Burton's,' said Sharon. 'What about you?'  
  
'He works for the government,' said Jason impressively.  
  
'Really? That's amazing, considering how young you are,' said Sharon.  
  
'Thanks,' said Harry, and decided to steer the conversation out of these dangerous waters. 'So how did you meet Steven?'  
  
'I met him through Paul and Jason,' said Sharon.  
  
'We met him at a club a few years back,' said Jason.  
  
So it sounded as if Malfoy had been living here since he faked his death, then.  
  
'I hear you've known him since school,' said Sharon.  
  
'Yeah, but we weren't friends.'  
  
'No?' said Jason, eager to hear whatever he could about Malfoy's past.  
  
'We were sort of enemies, actually.'  
  
'Really?' said Jason. 'Ooh, tell us more.'  
  
'Erm ...' said Harry, trying to think of something safe to say. 'Well, at our school there were four houses, and my house had always been rivals with Steven's. He was kind of the leader of his house, and I know it sounds arrogant, but I was, too. So, you know ...'  
  
'Sounds like West Side Story,' said Sharon with a laugh.  
  
'Yeah, I suppose it does,' said Harry.  
  
'But why won't he tell us _anything_?' whined Jason. 'You find it easy enough.'  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably. 'It's kind of ... complicated.'  
  
Jason's eyes widened. 'So there _is_ something,' he said in a hushed voice.  
  
'Fucking hell, Jay. You're obsessed,' said Sharon, but Jason ignored her, gazing avidly at Harry.  
  
'Look, I can't ... all right - I'll tell you this, but I wouldn't bring it up with Steven,' said Harry, giving in a little.  
  
'Yeah, of course,' said Jason eagerly.  
  
'Steven and I, we both have a past that we want to forget. _Really_ forget. A lot has happened to us both. Too much. And I'm guessing the reason that Steven won't tell you anything is because he's trying to get away from it,' Harry paused, and then said, 'I completely understand how he feels.'  
  
Both Sharon and Jason were watching him with wide eyes, and Harry got a little impatient. 'Look, just know that he never did anything that you would have to worry about, all right?'  
  
'God, it's all so mysterious,' said Jason. 'And fucking annoying as hell.'  
  
'So, I'm guess I'm right in saying that you and Steve have a pretty intense history together, then,' said Sharon.  
  
'You could say that,' said Harry.  
  
'Considering you were enemies, he was really excited when he found out you were here,' said Sharon.  
  
'Really?' said Harry, stunned. 'How d'you mean?'  
  
'The day that you arrived, he met up with us in a bar and he was all "I'm gonna bring my friend Harry tomorrow, you _have_ to meet him". Really excited, he was,' said Sharon, smiling.  
  
'That's ... unexpected,' said Harry.  
  
'So what have you been doing since you left school?' said Jason. 'Apart from working, of course. Been seeing anyone?'  
  
Harry would have liked to talk to someone who didn't know anything about him, but how would he explain to a pair of muggles that his last relationship was based on his fame?  
  
'There's been the odd girl,' said Harry vaguely.  
  
'Girl?' said Jason.  
  
'I told you last night I was straight.'  
  
'You said you wasn't sure,' corrected Jason with a smirk.  
  
'Well, I won't be completely gay, because I'm attracted to girls, so the most I'll be is bi,' said Harry.  
  
'What made you question it?' asked Sharon curiously.  
  
Harry shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. 'I'm not sure really. One or two things that caught my attention while I've been here.'  
  
'It's Steven, see? Everyone fancies him. I think even Louise does, and she's as gay as you can get,' said Sharon.  
  
'There's been a couple of guys over the years that I've noticed, as well, but the realisation didn't hit me until recently,' Harry continued, glad to explain a little of his confusion to neutral people. He looked at Jason, and said, 'How long have you and Paul been together?'  
  
Jason roared with laughter. '_Everyone_ says that,' he said. 'He's my cousin.'  
  
'Oh,' said Harry. 'I didn't mean to offend you. I just thought you were –'  
  
'I am,' said Jason. 'I'm just not with Paul. Sadly single. Hey!' he said, as if struck by a sudden idea, 'If you do decide that you swing both ways and you don't wanna try it on with Steve, I'm very available.'  
  
Sharon rolled her eyes, and Harry said, 'I won't be trying anything with Steve, not with all that's going on with Chris.'  
  
'There's nothing going on with Chris,' Sharon growled. 'Not unless Steven wants to feel my foot up his arse.' She sighed grumpily and said, 'Let's watch the film. It's getting late and Steve says you're supposed to have his dinner ready for when he gets home.'  
  
Jason grinned at him, looking as if he really wanted to say something to that, but he held himself. The sun was already going down, so they drew the curtains and put the telly on without any other light. Sharon disappeared into Malfoy's bedroom and returned with a blanket, which Harry had come to know over the years as a necessity to females when watching a film in the dark, despite whether it was warm or not. They pulled the coffee table close to the couch and piled all their snacks and drinks on it, got under the blanket, snuggled together, and switched on the film.  
  
It was quite good, Harry thought, although in his opinion, they had squeezed too much into one movie. It was nice to sit there, though, huddled together under the blanket with two people who had no real idea who Harry Potter was and just saw him as a potential friend; sharing cans of coke and glasses of cream soda, tucking into the popcorn and giggling whenever one slipped away and disappeared under the couch cushions, resulting in much shifting around and hunting.  
  
When the film ended, Sharon helped Harry clean up while Jason sat and observed, earning a clip round the ear from Sharon.  
  
'You're coming tonight, right?' Jason asked while they put on their jackets.  
  
'Er – possibly,' said Harry noncommittally.  
  
'Don't worry. Steve'll make sure he does,' said Sharon.  
  
He got a kiss on the cheek from Sharon and a clap on the shoulder from Jason, and then they were gone. The flat seemed unnaturally silent when left alone, so he put on a relaxing CD and set about making his and Malfoy's dinner.  
  
By the time Malfoy strolled through the door at a quarter past ten, Harry had set the table for two with enticing plates of Spaghetti, a couple of glasses and a bottle of wine he had selected from Malfoy's extensive collection.  
  
Malfoy swept into the bathroom with a vague nod at Harry and returned half a minute later, slumping into his chair.  
  
'God, I hate fucking working,' he grumbled, pouring himself some wine.  
  
Harry, who knew of Malfoy's privileged upbringing, could imagine just how much Malfoy hated to work. 'Hmm,' he said.  
  
Malfoy looked up at him, blinked, and said, 'Sorry. I'm being rude. This looks really nice.'  
  
Harry smiled at him. 'Eat it then.'  
  
There was silence for a few minutes while they ate, until Malfoy broke it by repeating Jason's earlier question. 'You're coming out with us, right?' Harry glanced at the clock, which Malfoy noticed. 'We've got time. I usually meet them at about half eleven. Friday is kind of a warm up to Saturday because I finish work at eight and don't have to go in at all on Sundays. So Saturdays tend to be a little wild.' He paused to take a sip of wine. 'You don't have to come tomorrow, if you don't want to, but you _are_ coming tonight.' He smirked. 'Of course, you'll have to borrow something to wear. There's no time for you to go back to the hotel, and you're not wearing that.'  
  
Harry didn't even try and argue. He went back to his food.  
  
'Jay and Shaz came over today, didn't they?' Malfoy asked  
  
'Yeah ...' said Harry. 'We chatted a bit. Watched a film.'  
  
'What did you talk about?' said Malfoy innocently.  
  
Harry smiled. 'Don't worry, Malfoy. You still have your secrets.'  
  
'You know, Harry, you can drop the Malfoy now.'  
  
'Steven, then?' Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Fine, _Draco_.'  
  
Draco grinned.  
  
At a quarter to eleven Draco disappeared into the shower ordering Harry to leave the dishes and to have a look in his wardrobe. So Harry put the plates into soak (he had washed the pans before Draco had come home) and then he went in search of clothes.  
  
Draco had many clothes. Two large wardrobes full, in fact. Not to mention a tall chest of drawers full of folded jeans and t-shirts. Harry was feeling a little lost when Draco entered his bedroom. Harry was slightly disappointed to see that he was wearing a bathrobe rather than the small towel he had worn yesterday.  
  
'What have you chosen?' he asked.  
  
'Nothing yet,' said Harry hopelessly.  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes. 'Honestly, Harry, you're hopeless. All right, turn around and let me put something on, and then I'll see what I can do about you.'  
  
'Why do I have to turn around?' Harry asked, generally confused.  
  
'Because I'm about to get naked,' said Draco.  
  
'Draco, you lived in a dormitory for seven years. Don't tell me you made everybody close their eyes when you got dressed every day.'  
  
'That's different,' said Draco.  
  
'How?'  
  
'Because I'm gay now.'  
  
'And ...?'  
  
'For fuck sake, Potter, do you walk around naked in front of every girl you meet?'  
  
'No,' said Harry.  
  
'Right,' said Draco. 'I'm gay, and I don't walk around naked in front of every guy who enters my house. It's the same thing. Now turn around. It's fucking eleven already.'  
  
Harry sighed irritably and turned his back on Draco. 'I still don't see the problem,' he grumbled, feeling distinctly put out that he wouldn't be able to see more of that gorgeous skin. 'It's only me.'  
  
'Yes, only you,' said Draco. 'Exactly my point.' Harry frowned in confusion. What did that mean? 'All right, I'm decent.'  
  
Harry turned and gulped. Draco was decent, yes, but he was still topless, and Harry had a whole landscape of that pale skin that he loved so much open to his gaze, highlighted by the silver chain Draco wore around his neck. His hair was still damp, and his black trousers rode low, his hip bones peeking out. He had seen Draco in only a towel yesterday, but that was only for about two seconds, and he hadn't been paying much attention.  
  
Harry stared and stared, as Draco turned to hang his robe over the door, the muscles in his back and arms rippling. Harry thought that he might like Draco's back more that his chest. It was smooth and without a single imperfection. His hips caused subtle curves and Harry desperately wanted to put the tips of his fingers to the dimples that could just be seen above the material of his trousers.  
  
Draco turned around and Harry forced his gaze to his eyes, finding them narrowed in a smirk.  
  
'Straight, my arse,' said Draco, and Harry went red. Draco laughed. 'Come on, let's get you sorted out.'  
  
They spent a few happy minutes arguing over what Harry was going to wear. Draco owned a pair of leather trousers which he quite liked the idea of seeing Harry in, but Harry flatly refused, so Draco settled for a pair of black trousers, similar to his own, and a deep blue, silk shirt. He saw Draco scowl as Harry adjusted his wand and its strap over his forearm. He then spent a few moments messing with Harry's hair until it was what Draco called 'fashionably tousled', although it looked no different to Harry. Draco slipped on a dark red shirt, did his own hair, and then they were ready to go.  
  
They arrived at a very noisy club and Harry paid their entrance fee while Draco flirted with the coat attendant. Once in inside, Harry followed Draco to the bar where they ordered their drinks, and then went on the hunt for his friends. They found them sitting on a table on the upper level, overlooking the dance floor. Paul, Jason, Sharon and Louise were there, along with Richard and his date, a man named 'Mace'. Harry was pleased to see that Chris was nowhere to be seen.  
  
The place was really too loud to hold a group conversation. Harry found himself sitting next to Paul, who yelled, 'You look good tonight.'  
  
'Thanks,' replied Harry, smiling.  
  
Paul grinned at him. 'Steven dressed you, right?'  
  
Harry grinned back.  
  
The next hour passed really quickly. People kept disappearing to the bar and coming back with drinks for everybody. Both the girls pleaded with Harry to dance, but he just shook his head with a smile, causing them to mock glare at him. Jason amused himself by moving Paul's coke to the other side of the table every time he put it down, making Harry giggle as he watched Paul stare blankly around, trying to find it. And all the while, he had Draco next to him, periodically nudging his leg with his own, giving his hand the odd squeeze, and asking his opinion about various things.  
  
All in all, Harry was having an excellent time. Until, of course, Chris turned up. The feel-good atmosphere within the group vanished as though someone had drowned them in ice. He bent down and kissed Draco's cheek, drank a shot of vodka in one go, and began tugging on Draco's arm.  
  
'What?' yelled Draco.  
  
'I want to dance,' Chris yelled back.  
  
Draco looked vaguely panicked. 'I can't – I promised the next one to Harry.'  
  
And the next thing Harry knew, he was having his own arm tugged by Draco. 'What – No!'  
  
Draco gave him a pleading look, and Harry sighed. 'Just one,' he said, allowing himself to be pulled downstairs and onto the dance floor.  
  
Harry wasn't the fourteen year old awkward kid at the Yule Ball anymore; he had gone clubbing many times, and had pretty much learned how to dance. He just liked to avoid it. He found that right now he didn't have much choice.  
  
Draco found them a space on the dance floor, smiled gratefully at Harry, and began to dance. After a few moments, after Harry had battled down his nerves, he joined in.  
  
They were facing each other, and Harry noticed that Draco had his eyes closed, absorbed in the music and its rhythmic beat. He looked very comfortable on the dance floor, moving elegantly and in a way that Harry found a little bit sexy.  
  
Harry was occasionally jostled from behind and on each side by energetic dancers, and he gave up apologising after the sixth time. Harry was getting into it himself, letting the music wash over him and allowing his body to respond however it wanted. He noticed that Draco's skin had developed a glistening sweat, and against that milky white, with the blonde hair, he looked as if he was glowing. Harry was absolutely fascinated.  
  
Draco opened his eyes and locked them with Harry's, holding his gaze as his body undulated and twisted to the beat. Suddenly, a foreign pair of arms wrapped around Harry's waist from behind, making him jump. A low, male voice in his ear growled, 'Hi there.'  
  
Draco stepped forward. 'He's with me,' he said, glaring at the stranger over Harry's shoulder. Draco grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him out of the man's arms. The next thing Harry knew he had been turned around, and Draco's hands were on his hips.  
  
'Draco – what –'  
  
'Just dance,' Draco said into his ear. And so, they danced.  
  
The term 'bump and grind' came to Harry's mind, because that was really what they had started to do. Draco kept a firm hold on his hips and Harry's arse was tucked against Draco's groin, his back against Draco's chest, and the side of his head against Draco's cheek.  
  
They moved together, their hips grinding and their sweat mingling together. One of Draco's hands moved past his hip, over his abdomen and up to his chest, pulling him further into Draco's body.  
  
The music filled Harry completely, until he couldn't tell the difference between that and the beat of his own heart. There was just rhythm and heat and sweat and Draco. Draco everywhere. All over and around him. It felt incredible and he never wanted it to end and he nearly cried out when Draco shifted away, but he found himself being turned again, and then Draco's chest was against his, and there was a leg between his, and one of his own between Draco's and this was so much better with his arms around Draco's waist and their groins pressed together, hard and aching and needing so much.  
  
The ceiling could have caved in and Harry wouldn't have noticed. He doubted whether Draco would either. Harry lost all sense of self pressed against that body, and when Draco started grinding their erections together, Harry didn't waste any time thinking about it and why it shouldn't be going on. He grinded back, hearing a moan in his ear and feeling Draco's warm, sweat coated cheek rubbing against his own and shaky hands pushing against the small of his back, urging him to grind harder.  
  
Harry paid no attention to his surroundings, only dimly aware that they were in a room full of hundreds of possible witnesses. He just needed to touch and gasp and moan and feel. They thrust together gently, as somewhere in the backs of both of their minds, they knew not to make it too obvious what they were really doing, and Harry felt his rock-hard cock moving roughly over Draco's again and again and again, and if they kept this up, it wouldn't be long before they would both need new trousers.  
  
Harry's feelings were brought to incredible new heights and he couldn't remember ever experiencing these sensations. Their thrusting and grinding became more desperate, more frenzied, and they tried valiantly to keep up the pretext of dancing but really they were racing each other to the edge of the cliff and almost dying of anticipation for when they would tumble over it. Harry's hand balled a fist in the back of Draco's shirt and a particular rough thrust made Draco moan and bite Harry's earlobe and Harry nearly screamed at the intense shockwave it sent down his spine.  
  
Harry didn't know why this was happening and what was going to happen when it was over, nor did he much care. He was only interested in Draco and the feeling and the music and the edge of the cliff that was coming nearer. And he knew Draco was getting nearer too, because he groaned deep and low and so incredibly animalistic and he latched his teeth on to Harry's neck and his movements speeded up and Harry knew that they must have attracted some viewers by now, but he didn't think about that because he could see over the edge of the cliff, and he was nearly there and Draco was ramming his hips into his and their cocks were going to be bruised tomorrow with the assault they were taking but he didn't care because Draco's teeth were biting hard enough to draw blood and Harry was two steps away from the edge -  
  
But then the world ended for Harry because Draco said 'fuck' in his ear, gave a pained moan and stopped all movement. The next thing, his body wasn't touching Draco's at all and he looked up to see that Chris had his hand clamped on Draco's shoulder and had pulled him away.  
  
Harry stood dazedly, blinking, trying to take in the abrupt change and the intense frustration. He could see Chris with his head close to Draco's, saying something in his ear, looking absolutely furious. Draco looked as bad as Harry felt; his skin flushed and his trousers tented painfully. Harry sympathised.  
  
Chris straightened up, glaring at Harry. He grabbed Draco's hand and began pulling him off the dance floor. Draco followed, glancing over his shoulder at Harry, his expression unreadable.  
  
Harry was left alone in the middle of the dance floor, and he had no idea what to think. He stared after Draco for a moment, before walking over to the door. He paused and looked back to see if Draco was trying to find him. He wasn't. Head hung low, Harry walked out of the club, hailed a taxi, and went back to the hotel.


	3. NOTICE

This is a notice to say that you can now find this story up to chapter 10 on my Live Journal, as well as many other H/D stories. This site doesn't let me put in links, so just go to Live Journal and search for devonmay – that will take you to my LJ.

Thank you.


	4. ANOTHER NOTICE

Grr. It's FF's fault. I did spell my user name right, of course, but they took out the underscore thingy in the middle. Anyway, you can now find the link to my Live Journal in my user info page. And if any of you have LJs too, friend me, and I shall friend you back! And remember that you can leave a comment even if you don't have a LJ – I like to know what the readers think.

So yes, you can find the story up to chapter 10 there. There's also a lot of other Harry/Draco stories, and I'd recommend The Joys of Fancying Your Enemy, which seems to be a favourite amongst my friends list.

If there is anybody who has any trouble, or doesn't know how to navigate a LJ, email me and I'll help you out.

Devon


End file.
